


Interview with the Devil

by mwaters



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Dark, Gen, M/M, Minor Violence, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwaters/pseuds/mwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Moran and Jim Moriarty's first meeting</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interview with the Devil

//That's him?//

Sebastian Moran made no effort to hide his blatant stare. His decidedly disrespectful expression and searching, boring eyes made his companion quite uncomfortable. In fact, his companion, a man who simply went by the moniker “Ruff,” had warned Sebastian the entire ride over to behave with the utmost respect. Don't speak until spoken to, all that rubbish.

Only because Ruff had once been Sebastian's commanding officer could he get away with even suggesting to Sebastian how he should conduct himself.

//Jesus, he looks like a fucking child//

Ruff had brought Sebastian here, to this rotted out, grimy dive late at night to get him a job, though it took a Hell of a lot of cajoling/threatening. Sebastian wasn't interested in money, although, as Ruff vehemently assured, this man they were meeting--Ruff wouldn't reveal the name--would make him rich. No, what Sebastian really needed right then and unfortunately couldn't get himself was a hiding place. Some way to carry on living his life the way he wanted without having to sneak around and scurry away like a rat at the first sign of trouble, and supposedly, this mystery man could provide that. His vast, spider-like web of connections and influence was already protecting quite the rogue's gallery of London's underworld. 

“I'm not interested in working for a fucking mob boss,” was one of Sebastian's concerns.

“Oh no,” Ruff had assured. “He's not mob affiliated. Shit, he's beyond the mob. Trust me, he's in a class of his own.”

//This can't be him--must be a proxy...//

That wasn't enough to trust Ruff and his strangely adamant attitude over this, but Sebastian had finally relented when he was reminded, once again, at just how limited his options really were. In fact Ruff was going to leave the country that very night, after the interview.

//Christ, is he listening to fucking music?//

The ex-soldiers had been waiting a few minutes while the mystery man strolled around behind them, ear buds plugging up his ears, an immaculate suit snugly adorning his diminutive body. Sebastian would have assumed this creature were just another patron--as unlikely as that was, considering this dump--if not for the respectful way Ruff sat, facing him but keeping his eyes down and mouth shut. 

At one point, the man's eyes met Sebastian's. It wasn’t a look; it was an experience. Sebastian felt a jolt of what could only be described as panic, though he felt no fear, when the mystery man's eyes took hold of his. They, along with the sudden, toothy smirk he flashed for a split second, as if in private communication, abruptly changed Sebastian's opinion of him, as if given a glimpse of what this man was hiding behind his odd behavior. 

He still felt he needed more information to properly judge, but at least he felt confident this man wasn't a complete tosser. 

That shared look seemed to stretch on for hours, but the man snapped his gaze away before Ruff could finish taking a sip of his beer. Sebastian felt oddly cold when freed from that gaze.

Choking down what he did manage to swallow, Ruff stumbled off his stool to offer it to the mystery man, who made no gesture of thanks or even acknowledgment when he took it. Sebastian was never impressed by such cheap shows of arrogance, but he didn't mind it this time. However, he refused to treat this man any differently than he would Ruff. This guy wasn't his boss yet, and in fact might never be.

The man climbed on his stool and spun himself all the way around, throwing a hand to the counter to stop and face Sebastian. Now that he was so much closer, so close Sebastian could feel the heat of his breath and smell his aftershave, his intense and steady gaze was rather unsettling. The man broke the stare only to sweep his eyes down Sebastian's body. Sebastian grew hot with anger as the man started making lewd faces.

“Like what you see, mate?” Sebastian snarled.

The man pulled a face of mock bewilderment that only aggravated Sebastian further, while Ruff threw him a pale and furious expression from behind. “I think I do,” he finally said, and the voice surprised Sebastian. It fit the body, and yet seemed oddly inappropriate. “He's a spunky one, isn't he?”

“Mr. Moriarty, Sir, I apologize for my...”

“Hey!” Sebastian snapped, leaning over the counter to glare at Ruff. “Don't fucking apologize for me. I'm not a child.” He turned his fiery scowl back at the mystery man, who was grinning and resting his chin on his fist as if this were some kind of show put on just for him. 

Sebastian scowled at the man, refusing to believe that this was Moriarty, although, admittedly, he couldn’t be certain who, or what, he'd expect to personify the underworld legend. Moriarty could be a woman, or even an organization, but not this guy. At best, this little creep could only be a representative.

“Anyway,” Sebastian added with a growl. He was speaking to Ruff, but glaring at “Moriarty.” “I don't think I'd feel comfortable working with a man who's going to leer at me all fucking day.”

“Bet it's a lot more comfortable than a cell,” Moriarty said with an amused expression that gave Sebastian a dark thrill, as well as annoyance. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and slid off the stool. Ruff rushed up alongside and gripped his arm to stop him. He quickly let go when Sebastian gave him a look that promised ill for those intruding hands. “Moran, please! Give him a chance, will ya?” he said in an oddly nervous voice. Sebastian had never known such fear in this man, and that in turn made him nervous.

He was still burning from the offense to his pride, and didn't want to seem too eager to return. But he knew he had to. He knew he couldn't afford to insult the real Moriarty by refusing his--or her, or its--offer so quickly, if at all. According to Ruff, Moriarty had specifically asked for him. By name.

So with plentiful attitude, Sebastian sat back down where he was, though leaning a little farther away from the man. 

“Oh, what a relief!” Moriarty said, his pitch high, but his tone dark. He had a disturbing smirk on his face which suddenly aged him a decade. Certainly an improvement, Sebastian begrudged. 

//Still no fucking Moriarty//

“I had worried we'd gotten off on the wrong foot. Fix us a drink, Ruffie-Boy. I'll take a Bloody Mary. And you, Sebastian?”

Sebastian fixed him a cold, steady gaze. “I'm good.”

“Ahh,” Moriarty remarked, but moved on.

//Thank Christ//

While Ruff hastily prepared Moriarty's drink, Moriarty leaned forward, sneering at Sebastian's involuntary flinch, and asked, “What kind of wages you looking for?”

“I really don't care, as long as I'm paid.”

“Oh, come on. Give me a number so I can laugh at it.” Moriarty took his glass without bothering to glance in Ruff's direction.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “I'm sure I'll want for nothing,” he replied stiffly. His attention was diverted from Moriarty's eyes to his lips, which were brushing against the lip of the glass in an entirely unnecessary way. He cleared his throat and snapped his gaze to Ruff. “Actually, I'll have a beer,” he said, and Ruff poured him one with slight annoyance. 

“Oh, you'll be well taken care of,” Moriarty said. He took a tiny sip and licked his lips when he pulled the glass away from them, his eyes fluttering shut in apparent pleasure. They snapped open again as he added, “Very well taken care of, as long as you're in my employ. But...” he trailed off dramatically, looking away. Only when Sebastian gave him an impatient look did he deign to continue, “You really won't have much of a life outside of this.” He made a face of exaggerated sheepishness. “Or should I be more clear, you won't have any life besides what I give you.”

Thinking Moriarty was just trying to get a rise out of him, Sebastian answered coolly, “My life ended the day I got discharged.”

Moriarty's eyes lit up and his teeth, oddly pointed and sinister, Sebastian noticed, flashed in delight. “Woagh, dark and brooding!” He swiped his tongue over his teeth and added, “I love it.” Moriarty's gaze was an obvious challenge, one that Sebastian was tempted, just out of instinct, to rise to. But after an agonizing moment, he dropped his gaze and helped himself to some beer. He could feel Moriarty's stare, just as intense as ever, remain on him for a moment, until he broke his gaze and took a sip of his own drink. Only then did Sebastian remember to take a breath.

Sebastian waited, but Moriarty didn't speak again for several minutes. Instead, he started humming a song Sebastian couldn't recognize and twirled his straw around in his glass. That image would have struck Sebastian as childish in any other context, but he wasn't so quick to judge anymore. He was beginning to warm up to this man, as he felt that he may actually be a professional. But Sebastian was still not convinced this was, in all honesty, the Moriarty. 

“Sebastian,” Moriarty said, so casually, Sebastian almost didn't notice. A corner of Moriarty's lips twitched upwards in obvious approval at the way Sebastian quickly responded.

“Yes?” 

“Kill Ruffie-Boy.” He didn't even stop stirring idly at his Bloody Mary.

Ruff's face went white, and he looked to Sebastian in utter panic and disbelief. Sebastian could only glance back with useless confusion.

“What?” he asked with a nervous laugh. Moriarty was grinning, but there was no question that he was serious.

//I guess I'm hired//

“Sebastian,” Moriarty said with unmistakable menace in his voice. He titled his head and his jaw clenched ever so slightly, despite the soft way Sebastian's name rolled off his lips. “Don't make me repeat myself. Ever.” He shot an icy look to Sebastian, and in that moment, Sebastian realized, with a sinking feeling, that this man couldn't be anyone but the Moriarty. There was something inhuman in his gaze. And with only the slightest change in expression, the man looked worlds different from when Sebastian first encountered him. 

Sebastian looked at Ruff, who was still behind the bar. His exit was blocked by the two other men, unless he dared to run around them. Sebastian wasn’t even aware of his own intentions until he realized Ruff was staring at him in cold, helpless fear, and from there, it was easy to commit to the order. He felt completely at ease, utterly casual, as he pulled out his Browning and lifted it to point at Ruff--who had by then ducked, trying to hide behind the bar. 

Sebastian shot a glance to Moriarty, not in an attempt to wriggle out of this, but to share with him a feeling of mild irritation at his friend's stubborn refusal to be shot. He supposed he could have simply walked around behind the bar, but he jumped up onto the counter, clearly relishing the adventure of this approach, and squeezed a shot off before Ruff had a chance to pull out his own gun. And while blood spilled out of Ruff's forehead, Sebastian hoisted himself back over the counter and leaned against it, his chest heaving and his face glowing from the enjoyable exertion. 

Sebastian turned to look at Moriarty, hoping to meet his eyes, though he wasn't sure what he expected. Approval? Pleasure?

“Just one shot?” Moriarty asked, instead of heaping praise on him. 

Sebastian felt that was a little anti-climactic, so he answered defensively, “One shot is all I need. I don't miss.” At that, Moriarty swiveled his eyes to him. Sebastian noticed, with a twinge of excitement, the way Moriarty's upper lip twitched and the way his eyes widened ever so slightly when he added, “Sir.” 

Sebastian looked down and put his gun away when Moriarty returned his attention to his drink. Sebastian waited for the man to finish, but he didn't restrain from sneaking glances at him. This man had made him murder a colleague, a friend, and Sebastian didn't care. Actually, he did care a great deal; this made him feel more than he had in months. This euphoric energy brimming within him was like a door he hadn't thought to look for suddenly opening. And he loved the symbolic slant to this as well: only one of those two men deserved to command Sebastian. 

And Sebastian got to choose which one it would be. 

“Do you want me to dispose of the body?” he asked as Moriarty pushed his glass aside and swiveled around. 

Moriarty made a face and waved his hand dismissively. “Please.” He slid off the stool and brought himself face to face with Sebastian, who wasn't sure whether or not he was expected to stand up, so he remained seated, awkwardly staring into Moriarty's eyes just a few inches away from his. “You don't ever need to worry your pretty little head over such mundane details. You're my killer, not my maid.”

He smiled and turned. Before he could take a step, Sebastian had already slid off the stool and walked with him out of the bar. Though he made sure to stay a step or two behind Moriarty, he was the first one outside, as he wanted to make sure the area was clear before his boss came outside.

Moriarty patted Sebastian's arm and laughed. “My dear Colonel, I have five pairs of eyes watching the area. But it's so nice to know you care.” 

There was a limo out front, and a chauffeur waiting by an open door. Moriarty stood by the door, obviously not intending to welcome Sebastian into the limo with him. When Sebastian frowned, Moriarty slipped a hand into his vest pocket and pulled out a card, which he handed to his brand new employee. It had an address but no phone number or name. “Tomorrow, 10am. And bring all your toys.”

Sebastian pocketed the card but searched Moriarty's dark eyes. “You're very trusting, aren't you?”

Moriarty's laugh was a sharp, high pitched bark, and brought no warmth to his face. “I don't trust you.” He stepped up closer and took a firm hold of Sebastian's jacket with both hands and tugged him even closer. Sebastian strained to avoid toppling over on top of the smaller man. “In fact, I'm sort of hoping you will let me down, so I can slit your throat myself. Well, after I've played with you a bit, of course. Hell, it doesn't make a difference either way to me.”

Sebastian's breath shuddered in his throat as Moriarty's gaze burned into him. “I'll be there, Sir.”

Moriarty let go and shrugged. And without another word or even another glance, he disappeared into his limo, which drove off into the night immediately, leaving Sebastian to stare after him in the darkness. 

Sebastian grinned.


End file.
